


Past Hurt

by azure112



Series: BBS oneshots [6]
Category: Banana Bus Squad, Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Angst with a Happy Ending, But its all better now, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, John is a Good Friend, Other, Past Abuse, Past Relationship(s), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-19
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-17 18:00:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28853193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/azure112/pseuds/azure112
Summary: After years of being trapped and abused, Jaren is finally saved from a toxic relationship by his best friend. Things aren't particularly easy, but at least he wasn't alone anymore.It seems that moving on isn't as hard with this many friends looking out for you.
Relationships: platonic - Relationship
Series: BBS oneshots [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2062383
Kudos: 15





	Past Hurt

**Author's Note:**

> A new pairing, because I felt that my work was getting a little bit redundant. They might be a little OOC, but i tried. Also running dry on ideas, so requests would be greatly appreciated.

The painful squeal of a siren was all that filled the air, echoing painfully in the still of the night. The blaring red and blue lights shone off of the glass, spreading out in a million broken lights. A crimson hue stained the pristine white walls of a once loving household, only complimented by the indignant cries and curses that had begun to sound. This place was once a home for a couple with an inseparable bond, now only acting as a shell that housed years of near silent trauma. Who knew how long it had been since this house had turned to ruin?

John sneered as a man walked past him, their hands locked tight in metal cuffs, their arms held back by a police officer. Shame was all that those eyes reflected, but they both knew that he was only sorry that he had gotten caught. Quietly, John asked for the man to be taken away, to somewhere he couldn't be seen. The only thing stopping him from getting up and bashing their skull in was the warmth in his arms, silently shaking in his grip.

Jaren was latched onto him now, bruised and bleeding, inhaling deeply into the fabric of his shirt. He was shivering wildly, though John couldn't tell whether it was from the fear or from the cold. His head was buried deep into the crook of his neck, his breath laboured and uneven. The only thing shielding him from the hostility of the world right now was John's strong arms, and a jacket that he had so graciously offered to cover up the wounds too fresh for him to bear. If John hadn't been more focused on keeping Jaren safe, there surely would have been a murder right then and there.

"It's alright, Smitty…" he cooed softly, aware that this was the name he was most comfortable with. He held him impossibly close to his chest, almost afraid to let his little angel slip away once more. He didn't want to lose him again. "You're safe. No one's going to hurt you now."

A soft warmth emanated from his body and his words, only filling Jaren with a feeling of comfort. This was unlike anything he had experienced in the years that he had been trapped in a prison they dared to call a relationship. There was a sincerity in the way that John was speaking, and he knew that he was right. No doubt could cloud his mind.

He just wished that he could believe him.

_____

Was that the sound of a plate shattering against the floor? Or was that the sound of panic rising in his chest, and completely overwhelming his body? Jaren couldn't tell. He could feel his body start to shake, his vision flickering repeatedly as the tears began to fall.

_"Tch. Can't you do anything right, you bitch?"_

"I- I didn't mean to! I'm sorry!"

Jaren tried to plead for mercy, almost immediately getting down on his knees, far from ready for yet another hit. His partner's cold, steely stare pierced right through his soul, and the belt buckle shone brightly from the corner of his eye. They always made sure to hit with the metal, to bruise his body with a firmer impact. The metal protrusion often cut his face.

_"You don't deserve to exist, you fucking failure. Why did I have to get stuck with this dead weight?"_

Static sounded in his ears, the ringing causing his head to hurt. His body was shaking, afraid, but prepared for the first strike. It was always the same, a punch to the face to put him down, into a more vulnerable position. A place from where the belt would come off, and he could be subjected to two different kinds of pain.

It was the same. Always, always the same.

It was only the first hit he knew that he could take.

A sharp sting on his left cheek, or the constricting feeling around his neck. He braced himself for impact.

But it was one that never came.

_"Jaren?"_

_"Jaren!"_

The voice sounded… softer. Different, somehow. Yet, at the same time, it felt familiar. It called out to him repeatedly, before something finally changed.

_"Jaren- Smitty? Smitty!"_

And then, it clicked.

_Wake up!"_

Jaren sat up with a start, darting his head about in a frantic manner, before pressing his knees up to his chest. His heart was pounding against the hull of his body at an inhuman pace, and for a moment, his world seemed to cease. He was shaking, and his eyes were brimmed with tears.

_What was happening?_

_What went wrong?_

Where was he? What had just happened?

...whose voice had he heard?

All of his thoughts came to a sudden stop when he felt arms wrap around him, pulling him close. They coiled around his body firmly, but in a way that was not too tight. His shoulders eased, and his breaths soon slowed, leaning in more easily as he held back onto the form. It was odd how well he could fit into these arms.

"It's alright… that was just a nightmare, you're completely safe…" John whispered softly, slowly pulling Jaren a little bit closer. He rested his chin on Jaren's short, unkempt hair, nuzzling against it gently, trying to coax him into feeling safer. Jaren rested his forehead against John's chest, smiling softly as he felt his heart beat inside. It pulsated at a steady pace, and his own heart rate began to slow as he studied the rhythm.

The warmth was enough to remind him of everything that had happened.

It had been a few days since that night. The night when he had finally mustered up the courage to call, and his closest friend had come rushing in to save him. It had only been a few days since the abuse had stopped.

But the pain still lingered, and it haunted him. He tried so hard to forget the awful feeling, but it hadn’t yet left. He was safe now, living with John and his roommates. He was occupying John’s bed, despite insisting to live on the couch, and he was with people who wouldn’t ever hurt him. Why was that so difficult for him to keep in mind?

“I’m sorry…” Jaren whispered in a small, broken whimper, quickly being shushed with a gentle nuzzle. A hand trailed its way down his cheek, and gently cupped his face, slowly pulling him back. John looked down at him, through his tear glazed eyes, and wiped away the tears with his thumb,

“Don’t apologise. You didn’t do anything wrong.” He whispered, gently pulling him in for another hug. “Talk to me, Smitty. Let it out. You’re safe now.”

For a moment, he tried to believe him. 

_____

Hysterics.

That was the kind of joy he knew how to bring about.

The air wasn’t filled with loud bellowing laughter, or prolonged, indignant cries. It was filled with soft, elongated chuckles that couldn’t seem to stop. A kind of laughter that had you smiling ear to ear in the aftermath. Brought about by the stupidest jokes that had no right to be as funny as they were. This was the kind of humor both Jaren and John seemed to share.

"I swear to God, you two are the same fucking person"

The two were playing with nine other people, in a filled lobby in Among Us. Jaren was technically _watching_ John play, claiming that he didn't want to interrupt or barge in on the session, even though John had done a fairly good job of convincing him that he would fit right in. They were at John's computer, with Jaren sitting beside his friend, speaking over his shoulder every so often.

The pair sounded somewhat similar, and it was a fact they were able to use to draw a good reaction. For the first three rounds, John and Jaren took turns saying a sentence, and it was only when both of them burst out laughing that the others were able to tell.

"I knew something was fishy! I can't believe I actually fell for it!" Marcel grimaced, over dramatic but clearly smiling.

"No wonder you were being so fucking stupid," David sighed deeply, holding back the loudest fit of anger known to man. "But which one of you fuckers decided to tell the whole lobby I vented in cafeteria, when I wasn't even _in_ cafeteria?!" His hollering held no merit, for they had rightfully turned the Irishman all the way down.

John shrugged his shoulders, mumbling a barely legible "I dunno" in response, while Jaren slapped a hand over his mouth, almost breathless by this point. He hadn't had this much fun in years.

"I'm sorry, I don't want to interrupt you all but what the fuck is going on?" A deeper voice suddenly cut through the mike, earning a hum from everyone else. Jaren didn't think he recognised this man, but the only voice he couldn't account for was 'Cartoonz'.

"Jaren." Tyler snarled, clearly rolling his eyes. "Haven't heard from the fucker in months. You can call him Smitty, as well."

Jaren stiffened slightly at the remark, sighing heavily as he calmed himself down. Right, he had just left them behind, without a single rhyme or reason. Despite never having cut all ties, even though he had been told to, he knew that at some point, he had lost touch with everyone else. A few years into the relationship, he had been told to not see another man. As much as he wanted to justify his absence, it wasn't something he was quite ready to revisit. Not yet.

"Oh, oh! Smitty! Look here!" John suddenly exclaimed, causing Jaren to snap right out of his thoughts. Startled, he quickly shot a questioning look in his friend's direction, only to catch a glimpse of the brightest smile that he had ever seen. He nodded his head in a joyful, excitable manner, and Jaren imitated the motion in response, hoping for an explanation. "Three…" he began. "two… one…"

It took a moment for him to realise what was happening. But once he did, he smiled wide, ready to fall back into hysterics.

_"You have bear fists?"_

They spoke together after John yelled one, just perfectly out of sync. The call descended into a series of groans from full grown men who were way too tired to relive a joke from 2018. It had been one of the few interactions that he had been allowed. Even then, the response had been the same.

If something were to remain stagnant and unchanging, Jaren hoped that it was this very moment.

_____

It was on a chilly winter's eve when Jaren had found himself taking in a brisk breeze, quietly walking on the snow. A soft crunch sounded underneath his every step, and it brought a smile to his face. Today was a wonderful day to be outside.

He was on his way to Tyler's, having been invited over to spend some time with everyone else over the holidays. Everyone had of course opted to spend the actual holidays with their own families, but there was nothing stopping them from meeting up a few days later, to celebrate a second Christmas before the New Year in the company of one another. The group was equivalent to a second family for most.

For Jaren, however, they felt more like his first.

He had his folks at home, people who he loved dearly and didn't mind spending time with when winter came. In a way, for so many years, they had been his escape. Christmas carols were as loud as they could be, and the house was filled with a warmth that turned winter into something obsolete. When he had come home, alone and ashamed, they had gladly come forth, and let him back in, simply playing it off as though he had never left. Nothing seemed to have changed, and for that, he was glad.

His friends, on the other hand, were closer to his heart, for they had never even left him to begin with. Even as he went with a guy that was surely a mistake, even as he turned his back on every single one of them, none of them ever stopped trying to reach out, and set him free. And, almost half a year ago, John had finally managed to break through, and save his life. Things hadn't been the same since, but it was a welcomed change.

Thinking about it now, he hadn't even seen his friends in the longest time, for he had been forced to cut ties. As he silently snuck outside every night to send a text or two to his friends, he remembered how his heart sank every time someone made a plan, or met up for any reason at all. His friends continued to stick like glue, and he was admittedly a little bit jealous, for he was never allowed anywhere near them. Even on the off chance he saw anyone in the park or at the grocery store, things always felt awkward, and he was always forced to lie about his state of affairs.

Now, after so many months of being able to leave that pain in the past, Jaren was looking forward to seeing everyone again, in person. As hesitant as he had been to go, John had convinced him that there was no better way to celebrate a new year, with people that actually cared. It was stupid, and sappy, but he wanted to give it a shot, if only to stray further away from the wreckage that had taken away four years of his life. All that time couldn't last forever.

He wondered how Christmas was going to be this time around. How much mistletoe would be handing over every doorway, and how many people would be forced to succumb to less than consensual bromance? How warm was the fireplace, and how many presents were wrapped underneath the tree. Jaren himself was a brand new addition, so how would he have fit into it all? Would they even have the space for him?

Those were questions driven by thoughts of the past, and would be answered in due time. First things first, he had to start by actually getting to the venue, and hope for the best. As scary as this first step seemed, he couldn't let past hurt return to ruin his future.


End file.
